Founded Again
by eliana-moran
Summary: Ginevra returns to Hogwarts on her birthday, precisely 17 years since she left, since the war ended, to find the school in ruins. With plans to rebuild the castle, can she rebuild her life, her love? Ginevra, Draco, Blaise, and Luna: founders of Hogwarts
1. Chapter 1

Seventeen years. Half of her life. Seventeen years of silence, and here she stood. Dead leaves crunched beneath her feet and the wind whipped her hair. From all appearances, it should have been autumn, but it wasn't. It was August. It was her birthday.

Seventeen years. Half of her life. Was she the same person? This certainly wasn't the same place. She wondered if anyone had set foot on the stone since she had left it behind. It was a romantic idea: her departure had marked the end of life for these halls and her return...well, who knew?

It was romantic, but implausible. After all, there weren't skeletons lying about. That meant someone had been through to gather them all and give them proper, or unmarked, burials. Whichever they deserved.

She sighed. Reaching out as though she were afraid the doors before her would disappear in a vapor the moment before her fingers made contact, she gently pushed on the massive and rotting wooden portal. Creaking and groaning in protest on hinges long unused, the door swung open before her, old magic moving what should have been rusted shut.

Stepping as though she tread hallowed ground, she walked through the once grand entryway to Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The ceiling had caved in at one point and debris littered the hall. She heard the scampering of the wild inhabitants of ruins.

The Great Hall had faired only slightly better. The enchantment on the ceiling had faded and it was what it was, a cracked, crumbling, and dirty ceiling. One of the tables was turned over and the other three were pushed out of place. The faculty table was broken in half and she found it all strangely appropriate. After all, it was division among the faculty that had once long ago nearly destroyed the school and division among them again that had ended in the school's ultimate decision to remain closed after the war. She smiled ruefully when she realized that the house table overturned was Gryffindor. Surely it would have broken that man's heart to see the school now.

She turned and slowly left the dim sight. She explored the ruins for hours. Half of the towers were impassible and most of the corridors were inches deep in dust and leaves. Some of them even had plants that had taken up root and begun to grow indoors, though the whole castle seemed to be outside now. Some of the outside classrooms were completely exposed where a wall or two had collapsed. Some of the classrooms looked like they were waiting for someone to come and lift the blanket of dust, ready for students to return any minute.

Gryffindor tower still stood, though it was hardly preserved. Animals had picked apart the once luscious sofas and most of the furniture was broken. She climbed the stairs to her old dormitory and found her bed still standing, though it appeared that a family of mice had lived in the mattress for generations and the drapes had been torn apart by birds to adorn their nests.

Leaving the castle with unshed tears burning behind her eyes, she made her way out to the Quidditch pitch. Not one of the stands remained upright. Sighing heavily, she waved her wand a few times and the old Gryffindor quarter sprang up and repaired itself. She climbed up to the very top and sat there, staring at the sky, envisioning all the old games she had watched, and played. She could almost hear the students cheering. She could almost hear Lee's inappropriately biased commentary. She closed her eyes and she was a child again.

When she opened her eyes she saw a young man climbing the stands in front of her and waited silently. He took a seat beside her and watched the sky much as she had been doing. It could have been hours before he broke the silence, but it was only a few minutes.

"I wondered if you would return today. It seemed appropriate, and when I heard that someone had camped out in the Shrieking Shack last night, I decided to come up." He was a tall man, about a year older than her, and his posture spoke of great weight he had born too young. His jaw was firm and his eyes were sharp, and a scar along the left side of his neck marked him as one who fought in the war.

His dark hair no longer fell in his eyes as it had in his youth. He kept it cut neatly now and much of the carelessness that had once set him apart had matured into gentility. Even though some would say that he never did learn to take life as seriously as it deserved, he always maintained that it only deserved enough sobriety for one to survive. He simply had defined survival differently now.

"Seventeen years is a long time, Blaise." She turned to look at him. "Things change." Her words were simple, but the depths they dove were endless. Yes, she was speaking about the school and its now ruined state, but she was speaking about much more. More importantly, her eyes turned her comment into a question.

How much did things change?

How was her family? Had they changed their minds?

Had public opinion finally settled down? If so, what was the final verdict?

Perhaps most importantly of all, had _he_ changed any?

Blaise smiled slightly and examined his hands. Very few people had ever been able to keep up with their conversations because everything meant so much. He had missed it. "Yes, quite a few things." He looked up at her a sparkle in his eye, "You're a hero, now, you know. It only took a few months for things to be straightened out, for the facts to become known." He laughed and looked down at his left arm, "Seems like the lot of us are heroes: you, me, Luna..._him_." He didn't know why the name wouldn't come, after all, he was speaking of his best friend. "When everything was known quite a bit changed and fast. Everyone wanted to know where you had gone and how to reach you. I'm still not convinced that your family believes we didn't know. They blamed him for your disappearance, you know." He looked at her again meaningfully, "At least, most of them did. Bill and the twins were sensible enough to let blame lie where it belonged, on everyone. The others, though, set it all squarely on him."

He stopped talking to let things sink in. She was staring off into space, lost in her memories.

"I had nowhere to go...nowhere to stay, I mean. No one wanted me here, to look at, to remind them...even Luna became uncomfortable around me, though she never would have said so." She stood and turned to face the castle. "I may be a heroine, Blaise, but I doubt any of them would welcome me home with a parade. There are too many emotions bled into those stones. All of the anger they never expressed, all of the guilt for their betrayal, all of the pain of my disappearance...it's all been dealt with in one way or another and my return will only bring it all up for review."

He remained silent. He knew her decision had already been made and nothing he could say would change her mind. He simply prayed he had helped in some way.

Whether or not he ever knew how much he _had_ helped was never discussed. If he had not shown up, she probably would have slipped back the way she had come, unable to find the strength to make her dream a reality. With him there, however, she knew she would never be alone in the fight. He still knew her; he still understood, and he would still stand beside her.

After a moment, she asked, "Where do they go now?"

His eyes followed hers to the castle. "Nowhere, honestly. A system of apprenticeships has been set up. An aptitude test is taken at age twelve and a counselor helps the family decide where it would be best to set the kid up. Gringotts loves the arrangement, but pretty much everyone else hates it." He shrugged, "Even though, honestly, it _has_ worked. I figure most people are just angry that their kids are being denied the experiences they still cherish."

"Why don't they rebuild?" she asked, still staring at the castle.

He shrugged. "Pain, I reckon. This is the monument to death, division, hatred, and pain. No one has the strength to face the loss; no one believes it can be done; no one believes that this place can be rebuilt for the future. It belongs to the past, to the pain. There is no healing here."

She looked him dead in the eye and he saw the strength and determination that had carried so many through the war, through that final battle. "That, Blaise, is precisely why it _must_ be done."


	2. Chapter 2

That night, Luna joined Blaise and Gin at the Three Broomsticks for dinner. 

"I'm not worried about the structural damage," Gin explained. "It will be easy enough to repair and replace stonework and ceiling plaster. The problem will be the old spells. All of them will need strengthening and quite a few will need to be recast completely, that means deconstructing ancient work. I believe we're up to it, but it will take time."

Blaise drummed his fingers on the table in thought. "Just a thought, but do either of you know how they enchanted the ceiling in the Great Hall? There isn't much trace left _to_ deconstruct and Hogwart's wouldn't be Hogwart's without that ceiling."

Gin smiled, "I'll confess; I've thought about that ceiling quite a bit over the years, and I think I just might know where to begin."

"Why don't we just ask the ministry for their detailed spell by spell blueprints of the castle?" Luna asked.

Gin smirked and Blaise looked over at Luna with amusement mingled with something else. "Because, Love, that would be too easy." There wasn't the slightest chance that such plans existed, but Luna had never stopped believing in the random conspiracy theory/faery tale.

"Anyway," Gin continued, "we'll also need a grounds keeper. Is Hagrid alive and around?"

"I'm sure the centaurs would know where to find him," Blaise answered, "but he hasn't really kept in touch with anyone I know of."

"I'll talk to them tomorrow, then." She looked down at the list she was compiling of what they knew they needed and ideas of where to get it. So far it was fairly short. Since magic was going to be the key element, materials weren't that much of an issue, but she _had_ decided a few books on basic construction as well as theoretical deconstruction of spells were in order. The first could be found at any book store, but Flourish and Blotts would probably have the best, but the second would be more tricky to find, a few stores down Nockturn Alley sounded the most plausible. Then there was the question of replacement furniture, tapestries, and curtains. Those, however, could wait since it would be some time before they reached that stage in rebuilding.

With a sigh she stood and excused herself for a moment, promising to bring more drinks with her when she returned.

Not long after she disappeared into the back, Draco Malfoy strode into the pub. Scowl firmly in place, he made his way over to the table in the corner and stood before Blaise. "What the bloody hell is this?" he asked, throwing a neatly written note before his friend and partner. "'Having dinner at the Three Broomsticks, likely to spend the night there,'" he quoted. "And I suppose the business meeting we have been trying to arrange for months, scheduled for tomorrow morning, factors in these plans..." he let the sentence hang, prompting Blaise to finish the statement.

"Not at all, Mate," came the response. "You see, a more important planning committee session has been called, one that supercedes all other prior engagements." His tone was light, but his eyes were serious. He long ago learned the secret to dealing with Draco was to avoid putting any more pressure on the high strung man, refusing to feed the fire, so to speak, with more dry wood. Sadly, it was a lesson the red-head had never learned. Although Blaise had sneaking suspicions that she simply refused to abide by the rules because she disagreed with them.

Draco crossed his arms and leaned back a bit. At thirty-five, he was an impressive man. He had all of his father's stateliness and all of his mother's grace. He had also added his own brand of confidence to the mix with a strength of character fought hard for and won not easily. Very few could stand up to him when he was set and very few could resist him when he was at his ease. Much less easily riled than in his youth, it could be argued that his temper grew worse this time every year, but not even Blaise would dare make that observation aloud. "And what, pray tell, is this 'committee' meeting you speak of?" he asked dryly.

Blaise didn't get a chance to answer, for at that moment the sound of breaking glass shattered the tension and drew all eyes to the bar. There, staring in the shock of the unprepared, was Gin, three glasses in shards around her feet.

"Dray." Even her whisper was heard across the room. Everyone had seen Malfoy's entrance, noticed earlier the Zabinis presence, and had already been whispering about who the red-head must be. Her reaction to Malfoy confirmed all of their speculations.

"Ginevra." Suddenly all of the strength typically present in the man's face and shoulders faded into pained self-restraint.

Swallowing hard, Gin pulled out her wand and fixed the glasses she had broken. Setting them back on the counter she took a few steps toward the table before summoning her list. Looking at Blaise, she said, "We'll need his help. I'll...I'll see you at breakfast." With that, she turned and headed up the stairs to the guest rooms.

Minutes after she disappeared, Draco found the presence of mind to move and took a seat next to Blaise. Still visibly rattled, he nearly whispered, "Help with what?" His eyes hadn't left the staircase.

"Rebuilding the school," Blaise answered simply.

Draco's eyes focused and found those of his friend. "I assume," he said, "that no one has spoken of getting _permission_ to do this. The castle _is_ technically ministry property now." His voice held a note of resignation to the inevitable.

"We figured it would be easier to reopen if the structure is already sound." There wasn't even a hint of uncertainty in Blaise's voice. Both he and Gin had thought it out separately and come to the same conclusions.

Draco sighed. "There are quite a few, _loud_, individuals that are dead set against rebuilding the school, or building a new one for that matter. If you proceed without permission, they will use that against you when you try to open."

"Two problems with that vein of doubt, my friend," Blaise smiled his famous winning smile that had absolutely no effect on Draco and never had. "First, you assume we plan on acquiring permission to _open_ the school." He shrugged. "We simply intend to claim it and do as we please. Second," he took a sip of his water, "With her oratory skills and your knack for speech making, I figure we'll do just fine."

Draco rolled his eyes.

Blaise laughed. "She did convince a handful people that thought her mud and unworthy of breath _and_ a handful of those who thought her deserving of a traitor's death to follow her, side by side with mortal enemies, into the Last Battle, stand unified, and fight for each other's lives." He smirked, "And you, well, you had your father's record hanging over you head when you begun to speak and within days you had turned the world's favourite villain, one Ginevra Weasley, into the Chosen One's equal. So no, my dear Antony, I am not worried."

Draco groaned. "Antony couldn't make a speech to save his life, those words of worth belong to Skakespeare." He stood to leave. "I'll do what I can, but remember," he added wearily, "I will now have to cover for you at the office as well as do my own work, so don't expect me to dig in like a child in a sand box, yeah?"

Once he had cleared the door, Blaise called for a firewhiskey.

Madame Rosemerta made her way over the table. "I don't see why you order it, you never drink it."

"I like having the option," he answered.

"Is it true? Are you really rebuilding the school?" she asked in hushed tones.

He looked at her warmly, "Yes, it is, but word will spread quickly enough, so if you don't mind..."

"Of course," she said with a smile, "no one will hear of it from me or those I employ." Hogsemeade had suffered since the closing of the school and she was anxious to see life return to those streets. She still looked forward to the next few months with mixed feelings, however, because that life would come in waves on the back of reporters once the world learned Ginevra Weasley had returned.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning at breakfast, they began to make more immediate plans. 

"So, where do we begin?" Blaise asked laconically.

"At the beginning of course," came the answer from Gin.

"Right, so...the Quidditch pitch?" he laughed.

She rolled her eyes. "Where else? It shouldn't be that difficult, though, so why don't you two start on the entrance and I'll take the pitch. I'll talk to the centaurs when I'm finished and then join you inside. How does that sound?"

He shrugged and looked over at Luna who was studying her eggs rather intently, "Works for us." Luna looked up for a second and smiled.

The Quidditch pitch took a little more time than she had anticipated, but it really wasn't that difficult. The stands she had already repaired needed to be redone because they were being held up mostly by magic and she wanted them to be able to stand on their own. That involved conjuring quite a few segments of board. Unlike the front doors, the needed support beams were small enough for one person to conjure alone.

Once she had the stands up, she made her way out onto the field to address the problem of the goal posts. Three of them had fallen down and all of them were the worse for the weather. Finally satisfied with her work, she took a seat and surveyed the finished project.

While she was contemplating whether or not to go ahead and cut the grass, Draco walked up. "Should have known you would start here," he said by way of announcing himself.

"You would have done the same," she answered.

"Probably," he took a seat next to her. "Here," he handed her a tattered notebook with loose pages sticking out. "It might help. I've come up here periodically to study the spells. You know how much I enjoy archaic magic. Anyway, I haven't really completed anything, but those notes should be a good starting place for a few things, like the moving stairs. They stopped a few years ago, but I had a chance to study them as they slowed down." He didn't look at her while he spoke.

She took the book gently. "Thank you," was all she could say, and before she could recover he had stood to leave.

"Just be careful in there," he said as he walked away.

She watched him disappear. He really hadn't changed that much at all. He was still closed off to everyone, even her. Trying not to wonder just how much his last statement had meant, she heaved a sigh and made her way to the forbidden forest.

She was still a hundred yards out when Firenze appeared. When they met, he greet her with a solemn bow.

"It is a great pleasure to see you again," he said, "I never got to thank you."

"Yeah, well," she shrugged, "it was mostly Dray who convinced them to allow your return." She never was very good with recognition. He was referring to a few well placed words just before the final battle that had resulted not only in the centaurs rescinding Firenze's exile, but also joining in the fight. "Anyway," she quickly changed the topic, "we were wondering if you would know where Hagrid is and whether or not you believe he would return to his old position if asked."

Firenze smiled. "So you do intend to reopen," he observed. "Hagrid loved this place and left with a broken heart at its closing. I am certain he would return and joyously. The inhabitants of the forest will be glad for his return and will gladly contact him if the position is certain."

"This school _will_ reopen," she answered firmly, "and we will be as glad as you for his return." Both had carefully avoiding making any statement that sounded as though he was doing her a favour by relaying a message or that she was doing him a favour by allowing him to.

On her way back toward the castle, she took a detour by Hagrid's old hut. With a distant smile on her face, she set about restoring it. It wasn't that difficult, seeing as it was small, but it also appeared that it had seen sporadic care over the years. Perhaps the centaurs were more fond of Hagrid than they liked to admit.

Picking up Draco's book, Gin made her way around to the main entrance. Blaise and Luna had made quite a bit of progress. All of the debris was cleared out and they were working on closing any gaps or correcting any cracks in the walls and ceiling.

"It looks good," she said with genuine admiration. Luna beamed over at her before returning to her work.

"Thanks," Blaise smiled.

"The centaurs are going to contact Hagrid for us, so we don't have to worry about that." She opened a door to the side of the hall.

"That's great," Blaise came over to where she was. Looking at the book in her hand, he commented, "I see Draco stopped by."

Ignoring his comment, she continued her inspection of the small room. "We should clean this one out and set up and office of sorts."

Sighing and leaning up against the wall, he crossed his arms. "Gin, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'll be working in here, unless you guys are ready for a lunch break." It was getting past that time.

"Gin..." he tried again.

"Don't make me relive right now, Blaise," her voice held a warning a note.

"Fine, would you like to schedule a time? We can pencil it in," his tone was a bit sarcastic but he was worried about her and didn't like the way she was keeping him out. "I had forgotten how much the two of you are alike." He was comparing her to Draco who never let anyone see his emotions.

She turned on him with flashing eyes. "You want to _schedule_ a time? Great, how about the Tuesday after never?" She was all but yelling. "I left seventeen years ago because I didn't have anywhere to stay. No one wanted me here, no one had room for me. Now I'm back and the parts of my life that caused both the most pain and the most joy are once again staring me in the face. I came back to find that nothing has changed, nothing has worked itself out. I still can't see my family because the old 'request' still stands. I still can't _talk_ to Dray because he keeps himself so damn far away."

She was just standing there, staring at him, as she spoke and it was a bit unnerving, even for him. "I thought that time healed all wounds, but I was a romantic fool. In seventeen years I have not gone without invitations from interested men, and I accepted quite a few, always hoping I'd be able to forget. Every time I would end the evening with an apology because once again I found my heart undeniably in the possession of one who doesn't _want_ it."

Blaise swallowed hard. He knew her statement was untrue, and he knew she knew it as well. Draco _did_ want her, and that was the problem.

She continued. "You judge me for being closed off and condemn me for being cold, but tell me Blaise, how the bloody hell else am I supposed to survive? You want to know how seeing him again makes me feel? Ask, Blaise, ask me again. I've told you why I can't, and if you think it isn't _rational_ enough, please, ask again and I'll see if I can't answer."

He ran a hand through his hair. "No, Gin, you've answered the question, a question I should have known better than to ask. I'm sorry. You are not the same. Your behaviour is, but your motivations are not and I have grown too used to his ways and see them only in that light. I am sorry."

She sat down on a pile of rocks. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I went off on you; I just...nothing has changed."

A great many things _had_ changed, but too many of the important things had not.


	4. Chapter 4

About that time, the sounds of a large crowd began to drift up to them. Blaise and Gin both looked out one of the openings and saw a group of reporters and their photographers approaching the castle.

"Well," Blaise said, "they're here."

"I was beginning to wonder what was taking so long," Gin answered. "You two stay out of sight, I'll talk to them." Without waiting for his reply, she went outside and leaned up against a pile of stones that used to be part of the front steps.

As soon as they were close enough to be heard they all started yelling questions at her. She tried to get their attention, but they all insisted on talking at once so she whistled loudly and they settled down.

"Why don't I start with a few essentials," she began. "First, I _am_ Ginevra Weasley, and I have, in fact, returned." She smiled and waved at the crowd. "Second, I have learned a few things while I was away and I have set up my own special ward that effects only your cameras. Please, feel free to take as many pictures as you wish, but they will not turn out very well." She cocked her head in apology to the cameramen. "And perhaps most importantly, if any of you, _any_ of you, gets in the way I will remove you all."

"So you do plan on rebuilding?" someone called from the crowd.

"I should think that is fairly obvious, but yes, I do," she answered and then nodded in the direction of another reporter that had actually raised his hand. This was turning into a regular press conference.

"Does the ministry know of your plans?"

"They will know when you tell them," she pointed to another.

"This is now their land, have you plans for seeking their approval?"

"Let me explain a very crucial detail, I do not require their approval because this is not their land. This land entered default when the school board disbanded. There was no single owner and the board did not sell the property before they all resigned. Had the ministry wished, they would have been well within their rights to sell the property for profit or use the land for their own benefit, but they did not. Since the ministry does not technically own the land as the board did not sign it over to them, it still legally belongs to the school which, as I said, is in default unless it reopens."

She paused to let all the magic quills catch up. "A new board has been formed and we have reclaimed that which is in our rights." She indicated the next reporter.

"A new board?"

"Yes. The bylaws of Hogwart's dictates that the board of trustees must consist of at least four adults at least thirty years of age, all of whom must be alumni. This has been achieved."

"Who are the members?" someone asked without waiting to be acknowledged.

"They are to remain anonymous at this time," was her answer.

"Why?" the same reporter asked.

She smirked, "Why, you of course. Most of the crowd laughed and she indicated another.

"What happens if the former board members reconvene and deny your right?"

She shrugged. "That, my friends, is irrelevant. They did, after all, resign, and with that resignation they surrendered any right to dictate the structure or activities of this institution." She choose another reporter.

"You were seen having dinner with the Zabinis and Mr. Malfoy last night, are they the other members of the board?"

"The Zabinis are old friends of mine. Blaise knew me well enough to know that I would return yesterday and came to meet me. I had dinner with him and his wife during which Mr. Malfoy arrived on business with Blaise. That is the extent of the relevance of last nights dinner." There was a warning note in her voice, she didn't like it when people pried into personal affairs. She nodded toward a man that had yet to ask a question.

"Will you be contracting outside assistance?"

She smiled. "As of now we are cleaning and assessing the damage, repairing what we can ourselves. There will be certain items, of course, that need to be replaced. Why, do you have a cousin who specializes in large, oak doors?" she indicated the doors behind her and the reporters laughed once again.

"Have you been home yet?" the same reporter that had not waited for acknowledgment earlier jumped in again.

Her face grew solemn. "If the business portion of the interview has concluded, so has the interview." When no one could come up with another relevant question to ask about her intentions with the school, she went back inside.

"I think that went well," Blaise smiled at her.

"Should be interesting to see what happens now," she answered.

"Why didn't you give our names?" he wanted to know.

"I couldn't reveal your connection without confirming Dray's by the way. Unless the leopard has learned to change its spots, he will want to check and double check the impact this endeavor will have on business before becoming openly affiliated with it," she explained.

He couldn't argue with that.

"So, where are you planning on living? You can't stay at the Three Broomsticks forever," Blaise asked while they ate lunch.

"The Room of Requirement is still as strong as ever. I figured I would just move in there." She really didn't want to impose on her friends, even though they would argue her deaf that it wasn't an imposition.

They worked for the rest of the day and the Zabinis went home after another dinner at Madame Rosemerta's.

The next day they worked in peace, though mid morning a large number of people began to trickle up from Hogsmeade. They learned that night that every room in the town had been let by people wanting to see the work being done on the school. Gin wasn't really sure what they expected to find; it wasn't as if they had massive crews crawling all over the place. Most of the work they were doing so far was inside. The Quidditch pitch was pretty much the only visible improvement.

Work the third morning was interrupted by the arrival of Draco. He marched up to Gin without greeting. "Where did you get your legal information?" he demanded.

She sighed and dusted off her hands. "You aren't the only one with connections, Malfoy." She stressed his last name, referring to both his current status and his family's history. This side of him always irritated her.

He sneered. "Yes, well, I had my lawyers look into it, and the statements were correct."

Her lips tightened and her voice thinned. "Thank you for verifying that which I already knew." She turned away from him.

He threw his copy of the Daily Prophet on the ground. "And what gives you the right to make me a member of the board without asking me?"

"You arrogant...In case you didn't notice, I left your name out of it and can very easily deny any involvement at any point on your part. I can even return that book if you like." She saw the look on his face and continued, "and before you twist yourself out of shape, I could just as easily credit you with the whole idea, after all, your notes predate my proposal. So why don't you just back the hell off and breathe!"

"And who would you get to make up your four without me?" he demanded mockingly.

"Neville, you can't tell me he would turn it down."

"LONGBOTTOM!" he yelled in disbelief.

"Yes! He's a good man who would work hard! Hell, I may ask him to replace you anyway!" she was getting quite angry. He did have a knack for upsetting her.

"What the hell is your problem?" he wanted to know.

"You haven't changed at all. You were caught off guard by the fact that I knew something vital you did not, and you came down here to settle the score. I don't have the time or the energy to deal with your condescending shite right now, or ever for that matter." She was yelling at him.

He never reacted well to being yelled at. "Condescending..." he began to contradict her.

"Yes!" she interrupted him again. "You come down here, _demand_ to know how I could _possibly_ know something you don't, and then inform me that your lawyers verified _the_ statements? Not even _my_ statements. You had to make it completely impersonal! It is impossible for you to say that I was right! Not to mention any of that other shite you just threw at me! Where do you get off insulting one of my friends?"

"Bloody hell!" he yelled back. "Fine! You were right! You. Were. Right. Happy now?" he ignored her last complaint.

"Overjoyed!" she turned her back on him again and lowered her head. After a moment of silence in which he contemplated leaving, she said very softly, "Is it possible for us to have a conversation without yelling at each other?"

He sat down on one of the tables. "I don't know," he answered his hands rather than her. "Anyway, I cannot see how involvement would be detrimental so feel free to release our names however you please. While we're here," he looked up and around, "where'd the others go?"

"Have you forgotten they're ability to disappear when the yelling starts?" she asked, looking up.

"Oh right," he said before calling the others in. "We need to have an official meeting of sorts. We need to choose a chair, a position that may or may not grow into Head when the school opens. I personally believe it should and I nominate Ginevra."

She looked up in surprise and Blaise and Luna seconded the motion simultaneously.

"Well," Draco continued, "I suppose that makes it unanimous, what do you say?" he asked her.

"I don't mind being chair, but I'll have to get back to you on the Headmistress thing."


	5. Chapter 5

The sound of returning reporters could be heard outside.

With a sigh, she straightened her head and shoulders and went out to meet them. "Well hello again," she welcomed them as though they were old friends. "What can I do for you today?"

"Are you the chairwoman of the board?"

"Come, chairwoman is such a cumbersome word. Call me the chairman, it is correct; it's called grammatical gender. Or better yet, just call me the chair," she answered easily.

"Will you release the names of the other board members yet?" came the first question.

"No," was her succinct reply.

"Will you be admitting other members?"

"Perhaps at some point in the future we will need more input, but for now we can manage as we are." The interview was calming her nerves and she began to feel more in control.

"Has the ministry contacted you in any way?"

"Oh, are they not answering your questions? I'm sorry. And no, they have not as of yet had anything to say to me." They laughed a little when she expressed her sympathy.

"How will you respond if they attempt to stop you?"

"Is there reason to believe they will? There is no legal ground for them to do so and it is common practice to avoid lawsuits in which you don't have a leg to stand on." She sounded confident and even managed to express confidence in the ministry.

There was a great deal of murmuring in the crowd and someone announced the arrival of the Minister of Magic.

Gin set her jaw and awaited his approach. When he reached her, she politely extended her hand and took his. "Harry," she said a bit stiffly.

"Ginny, it's good to see you again. We need to talk."

"Yes," she looked out at the reporters, "but you would agree this is not the time.

He turned to the press and waved politely.

"Mr. Minister, how do you feel about her return?"

"It is indeed a pleasure to see an old friend again," he answered genuinely.

"Is it true that the two of you once dated?"

Harry laughed and Gin tensed. He managed to answer first and she felt like slapping him. "Yes, for a short time at the end of my sixth year in school we did date. Life, however, had different plans for us as it often does." She hated giving the press personal information and he had not right to do so without asking her first.

Fortunately, the conference took a business turn after that.

"Mr. Minister, what is the reaction to her plans? Is there going to be official opposition?"

"As of right now there is no 'official opposition.' We have found no grounds on which to disapprove of what is taking place, but we will be monitoring the situation." Yes, he had certainly learned politics.

"Are you under pressure to _find_ grounds?"

Harry laughed, "If I ever discover a situation in which every possible course of action is not represented among the lobbyists, I will think I've died and gone to heaven."

The press laughed before someone asked another question. "How strong are those opposed?"

"How to answer that question...they are certainly not in the majority, yet. Then again, there are quite a few of my advisors and many among the lobbyists and representatives that have yet to take a stand." He was quite adept at _not_ taking a position and leaving all options open for the future. Gin was actually impressed. "If that is all for now..." he ignored their continued questioning and held the door open for Gin.

Once they were inside, she led him to her office. "There can be no official opposition, you know that, don't you?" she asked seriously.

"We cannot order you to cease, this is true," he also maintained a business tone. "We can, however, stand opposed and advise against involvement."

She sighed and walked around her desk. "Is that what you came here to talk about?"

He sat down in an extra chair she had brought in the day before. "Why haven't gone home, or at least contacted your family?" He sounded very tired.

She stiffened and began to examine the papers before her.

"Damn it, Ginny!" Harry exclaimed and stood again. "Why do you do this? You always complained that people didn't know you but you always shut them out."

She looked up at with sharp eyes. "I don't shut anyone out, Minister, I let them know how far away they have chosen to stand. Your question should not have been asked, but even still there are those who would understand my answer."

"And I suppose _those_ would be Zabini and Malfoy," he intoned bitterly.

"Yes, actually." She whistled and Blaise entered the room. "Blaise, Harry here wants to know why I haven't gone _home_."

Blaise sighed. He looked at Harry, "Let me guess, she completely ignored you and started fidgeting, shuffling papers or something." He didn't wait for a confirmation. "Let me remind you of something before I interpret. She was thrown out. They told her never to return. They plainly told her that any letters she sent them would be burned, that they had no interest in her life and she should just accept it. As far as I know, none of this has been rescinded. As for her reaction, can you honestly expect her to willingly relive all of that pain by outlining it for you today?" Without waiting for a response, he turned and left. Remembering his own reaction a couple days again, he added before closing the door, "And if your upset that she keeps you at a distance, you might want to look at yourself. You just mind find fear and your own arms-length restraining order placed on her."

Turning back to Gin, Harry spoke. "We may not be able to shut you down, but we can place so many regulations, restrictions, and codes that you will find it impossible to proceed."

"Correction, _virtually_ impossible, but not entirely. If you attempt such a course of action, I will give you one day before turning your own supporters around on you with complaints of over-active over-powerful government. You know as well as I that freedom, or the threat of its loss, is a more powerful incentive than fear of the past." She met his gaze and his threat without wavering.

Harry Potter inhaled deeply before taking his leave reluctantly, the interview had not gone as he had hoped. She was just as stubborn as always, but then again, so was he _and_ her family. Perhaps people don't change after all.

After he had gone, she sat down and placed her head in her hands. That was where Draco found her. After leaving her office, Blaise had gone to find him. He was, after all, the only one who could ever talk to her about her family.

"Blaise told me what he asked." Draco took a seat across from her. He would have preferred going after the Minister and punching him in the jaw, but he had outgrown the freedom to behave in such irresponsible manners.

"Yeah, well, he missed the threat," she answered without looking up.

"He threatened you?" he asked in disbelief.

"In no uncertain terms. As soon as the door was shut he informed me that while they may not be able to legally shut us down they can bury us beneath red tape." Her voice sounded so weary.

"And he would consequently be buried in intrusive government complaints." Draco tried to sound unconcerned. It was harder than he had imagined. Not that he was worried about the ministry, but he _was_ worried about the girl.

She looked up at him. "That isn't the point. If he is willing to get me back there by any means necessary, by _threatening_ me, it means they still believe I owe the first apology."

"For what, trusting Snape and saving their asses or complying with their wishes?" he asked menacingly.

"For all I know, both." She sighed. "He didn't agree with them, you know. Maybe he's just sick of the division."

"He may not have agreed with sending you away, but he was all in favour of imprisoning you until you saw reason." Draco was just as angry over the memory as she was hurt. "It certainly seems like he's favouring their position this time as well."

"How the hell is it that I can convince mortal enemies to stand united behind a publicized traitor but I can't convince my family that a man with documented evidence to support him is telling the truth?" Pain infused her voice and he remembered the rarity with which she allowed that to happen.

"I'm sure that my being part of the bargain didn't help any," was all he could offer.

"If I go back there, and it isn't home, it hasn't been home in ever so long, without an actual invitation it will end as horribly as the last time I was there. Even _with_ and express invitation there's no guarantee that things would go well." She tried not to sound hopeless. "Anyway," she sat up straight and was once again characterized by determination, "I should get back to work."

"Yeah," Draco said a bit emptily. Taking a risk, he decided to ask a question. "Why is it that I'm the only one you'll talk to about your family? Blaise won't even try anymore."

She looked at him curiously. "You're the only one willing to. They see the pain it causes me and back off. You don't."

"Would you rather I did?" he asked honestly.

"No." She turned back to her papers and he left without another word.

When the door shut behind him, she just stared at it. "Well," she said to the empty room, "we didn't yell."


	6. Chapter 6

When Draco left Gin's office, he slumped up against the wall and ran his hands through his hair.

Blaise walked up to him. "How'd it go?"

Draco looked up at him blankly, "We didn't yell."

"That's an improvement," Blaise tried to sound encouraging but still sounded a little sarcastic.

Draco rolled his eyes and shoved off the wall. He walked a little way before turning back. "What happened?" he asked genuinely.

"You mean why did she leave?" Blaise asked for clarification. Draco nodded and Blaise looked at him incredulously, "You honestly want me to answer that?"

"And honestly," Draco said firmly.

"You're an arrogant prick that cannot tolerate anyone knowing anything you do not know or being better at anything than you are. You have to keep everyone at least half a step behind you and when you are confronted with an undeniable equal you deny it; you find a way to put them in their place regardless. If anyone stands up for themselves they are challenging you and if anyone stands up _to you_ they have committed the unforgivable sin. You are incapable of admitting that you have feelings, much less expressing them appropriately, and the closer someone gets to you, the more you care about them, the further you push them away, unless of course they play your games. She never has been much for games." He didn't hesitate in his speech at all. It was something he had wanted to say for a long time, but he knew if he said it before Draco was ready it would never be heard.

For once in his life Draco was too tired to reign in the emotion and true dejection was visible in his eyes. "I'm fortunate you _are_."

Blaise shrugged. "To be honest, Mate, I started playing your games long before I cared."

Draco started walking aimlessly and Blaise followed him. After a few moments, Draco started thinking out loud. "I wonder if she sees it as the same thing."

"Hm?" Blaise asked.

Draco looked up, realizing his friend was still with him. "Oh, her refusing to play my games and my insisting on talking about her family."

Blaise gave a half smile. "I'm certain she does. You pursue a line of conversation you know will cause her pain because you_ know_ in the end it will be better for her. _She_ insists on expressing herself in a way she knows you cannot tolerate because _she_ knows that it is the _last_ thing you need. A blind man could see it's the same."

Draco looked at his friend. "Why haven't you ever confronted me about all of this?" It seemed that after thirty-five years, he was finally waking up.

"First of all, _she_ told you all of this in no uncertain terms _many_ times in _many_ ways," Blaise answered seriously, "and second, I knew you'd never hear a word of it before you were ready."

"Is that why _you_ have 'played my games'?" Draco asked a little bitterly.

Blaise actually looked apologetic. "Like I said before, I learned how to navigate your moods before I actually cared. You were convenient and you were trustworthy, not to mention intelligent and worth spending time with, and that was it. I had no emotional attachment to you when I learned your buttons and strings, and I didn't learn to care for _anyone_ until Gin came along. By that time she was already everything you needed and everything you were afraid of. If I had started to stand up to you then, do you really think you would have been able to take it?"

"I'm not sure I can take it now," Draco answered honestly. He turned away again and after a moment he broke the silence with, "FUCK!" Blaise was a little startled. Draco's mind, reeling from all of the emotions of Ginevra's return and all of the revelations she had brought with her, had reached for anything to distract itself and buy enough time to recover and had finally begun to process some of the things she had actually said, having theretofore focused completely on the extent of her pain, the reopening of the hole she left in his own life, and that the former was largely and the latter entirely his own fault. "He _threatened_ her! He fucking _threatened _her!" he yelled.

Blaise's face was immediately stone cold. "He did _what​_?" he demanded.

Draco turned and face his friend before giving an account of what had happened as well as her response.

Blaise just stood there for a moment, eyes glassed over in disbelieving anger. Finally, his eyes cleared and he spoke. "I'm sick of this shit." He began to walk toward the school gates.

Draco followed dumbly. He was speechless for two reasons, the first and foremost being his own anger, but only slightly less was the simple fact that Blaise Zabini almost never cursed. Even when riled he remained completely in control and measured his speech, a fact that had quite an effect on most people.

Once they were off school grounds, Draco hurried a couple of steps and grabbed his friend by the shoulder since he didn't actually know where Blaise was headed.

Blaise apparated them to the Ministry of Magic. Entering the phone booth, he informed the female voice of their names and intent, getting them badges that labeled them inquistitors.

Storming through the building, barely pausing to have their wands weighed, they made their way to the Aurors' office. Ignoring all of the strange looks they gathered, they marched back to Ronald Weasley's office.

Draco leaned against the door frame, knowing better than to get in his friend's way. Blaise was a level headed man who rarely lost his temper, but when he did, you got out of his way.

Rolling up his sleeve, Blaise thrust his left arm under Ron's gaze. "Do you see that?" Blaise demanded. "Do you remember what that means?" The dark mark still stood defiantly. All prisoners after the war had had the dark mark burned off of them. All who had been pardoned due to their actions in the last battle had seen the marks mercifully removed, all except for Blaise who wanted to keep his as a reminder of where he had come from.

Ron's face set instantaneously and he opened his mouth to assert his authority, but Blaise wasn't about to let him.

"Do you remember all of the things that I did before your sister found me?" Blaise continued. "Do you remember _everything_ I _am_ guilty of?"

With a voice as cold as stone, Ron answered, "Yes."

"Do you remember why I was pardoned? _Specifically_, do you remember?" With his eyes flashing as dangerously as they were, it was not surprising that even the head Auror could not break their spell.

"Yes," Ron bit out.

"As _I_ recall," Blaise said, "It was because I saved _your_ sorry ass. Do you fully understand _why_ I was there to do so?" He was at least two inches shorter than Ron, but he seemed to tower over him. "Do you _fully_ realize that without your sister, I would have been there to _kill_ you rather than _save _you?"

Something in Ron's eyes softened just a bit. "Yes," his voice was a little quieter.

"Now," Blaise said as one who had established his first point, "do you remember how she knew what we needed to do, where we needed to go? Do you remember where she got the information on which she led forty-seven extra hands to your side, not to mention the thirteen centaurs that followed? Do you remember _who_ her source was?"

Ron was angry again. "Snape."

Blaise didn't like the way Ron had said the name. He rounded the desk and removed any psychological protection the obstacle had provided. "Do you remember how much _proof_ he brought with him when he made his case? Do you remember how much _proof_ she found in your own information to support him? Do you remember how hard she _fought_ to convince you of the needed course of action?"

Fear began to creep in at the edges when Ron answered. "Yes."

"Do you remember your reaction? Do you remember what you said? What you did? Do you remember telling her that if she walked out of those doors she would never be welcome again? Do you remember telling her that if she acted on Snape's intelligence she would be considered one of the enemies? That she would forfeit any claim she had to her family?" The bitterness in Blaise's voice was suffocating.

"Yes," Ron answered weakly.

"Do you remember giving the order that your sister be treated as a death eater? That she be arrested or killed on sight? Do you remember publishing her face and her name as those of a traitor? Do you remember cultivating hate and mistrust for your own _sister_?" Blaise had taken another step forward in his anger.

Ron would have sat down, but he found himself unable to move at all. "Yes."

With a voice somewhat more subdued, Blaise continued. "Do you understand what she sacrificed for you? Do you understand that she laid everything, _everything,_ on the line? That she _gave up_ the one thing that meant the most to her, her _family_ to do what needed to be done? What _you_ should have done?"

Ron's eyes were beginning to burn. "Yes."

"Then why the _HELL_ haven't you spoken to her? Why haven't you sent word to her? Apologized? Something!" Blaise demanded, yelling now.

"I didn't know where she was," Ron answered with a little recovered strength. Had he known...

"Well, she's back, isn't she?" Blaise demanded sarcastically. "She's been around for a week and you haven't so much as acknowledged her! Why weren't you there the second you heard? Why didn't you send an owl, at the very least? It would have been the coward's way out, but it would have been _something_! Do you honestly expect her to step forward and take the initiative when as far as _she_ knows you still consider her a traitor? Do you honestly expect her to risk reliving, to risk _doubling_ the pain of the _first_ rejection by opening herself up for a second? Where the _hell_ do you get off sitting back here, waiting for her, letting your best friend _threaten_ her into _disobeying_ your _own_ order!" Blaise had Ron pinned to the wall now.

Everyone was outside the office door watching, including quite a few from other departments, but neither of them noticed.

Finally, Blaise had gone to far. He had stepped fully in to the bounds of Ron's hatred of himself, of all the turmoil he had swimming through for the past week. All of the Auror's self loathing now expressed itself.

Shoving Blaise away from him, Ron's eyes flashed. "I do _not_ expect her to step forward and cover _my _responsibility! I do _not_ expect her risk _anything_ by approaching me or _anyone_ else in our family! I have _not_ sent an owl because I believe she deserves better! She deserves a full apology in _person_! It was _my _fault! _I_ was the one who convinced the others of what we should do, how we should treat her. _I_ was the one who made the decision to disown her. _I_ should be the one to face her. _Everyone_ in my family has offered to go in my place, _everyone_! Including my wife! Including my _children!_ But I can _NOT_ let them go in my place because it is _my_ responsibility!" He stopped yelling and sank into his chair. Almost whispering, he finished, "I'm simply too afraid."

He looked up at Blaise with eyes full of remorse. "I'm not afraid she will refuse me or reject my apology. I finally know her better than that. No, I'm afraid to face the pain that _I_ have caused. I am afraid to look her in eye and see everything I should have been, all the ways I failed. It's selfish, I know, I'm afraid to see myself reflected in her eyes, in her good, forgiving eyes." He looked down at his hands. "She's fortunate to have friends like you. You care for her and protect her the way I should have."

Blaise just stood there, watching him. Now that his anger was spent, he didn't know what to do. He had never in his life lost his temper like that and had no idea how to recover.

Draco was honestly impressed and his confidence in the Auror department grew exponentially. He honestly found respect for a man he had he despised since their first year of school, well...before, actually.

After a moment of silence, Ron looked back up at Blaise in confusion. "What do you mean my best friend threatened her into coming home?"


	7. Chapter 7

Blaise returned Ron's confused look. "After I explained to him why she hadn't gone home he immediately informed her that he had the power to bury her in red tape."

Ron stood up again. "No, that wasn't threat. He simply changed the topic and was misunderstood." He had no doubt about that. Why would Harry threaten _her_?

Draco huffed and stood up straight from where he had been watching. "I cannot remember a time when she misunderstood someone's words or misread their eyes as they spoke. She is the one who claimed it was a threat and she is the one who is convinced it means you believe she owes the first apology. _We_ are merely taking her word for it." His voice was easy but his eyes were frozen, much like had been for his entire youth.

Ron sighed. Making his way around his desk he led the others to the Minister's office. Once inside, a similar crowd gathered, but he shut the door behind them. "Harry, did you or did you not threaten my sister?" He sounded tired and his voice had a pleading note buried beneath it.

It was Blaise's turn to lean up against the back wall. Draco stood at the height of his imposing figure, watching the man before him darkly.

Harry looked at Ron in disbelief. "Did _they_ tell you I did?" he asked, indicating the former Slytherin behind the auror.

"They tell me she believes you did," was Ron's serious and pressing response.

"Damn it, Ron! If that is how she took it I cannot be blamed. I changed the subject when I couldn't take anymore. Everyone in your family is so bloody stubborn." Harry moved around his desk so that they all stood equal and met the eyes of his friend of twenty-four years squarely.

Ron clenched his jaw. "You _knew_ how she would take it. You _knew_ how it would make her feel and yet you did it anyway. That makes it a threat, Harry, whether it was sincere or not. If you intentionally pursued actions that would be perceived in a specific manner without attempting to correct that perception you are guilty of what you stand accused." There was anger in the auror's eyes.

"What else was I supposed to do?" Harry bit out. "I can't get close to her, rebuild _anything_ with her, until she's been reunited with you and everyone else, and if I waited for _you_ to do something about it it might be another seventeen years before I got to hold a decent conversation with her."

"Why," Draco demanded coldly. There was absolutely no emotion in his voice and it was hard to believe he had just spoken to look at him.

Harry met his cold gaze and answered him like he was speaking to an idiot. "Because _he_ is my best friend. Because as long as they are not speaking to be close to _both_ would be awkward with _both_. _Both_ would know that I spend time with the other, that I know how the other is doing, _what_ the other is doing, how the other feels. It would create an ever present tension that I simply cannot deal with."

Every line on Draco's face hardened, every muscle tightened, and he looked as though he had been force fed the exceptionally bitter. "Than you obviously don't care that much about being close to her." His words were so sharp they would have physically stung lesser men.

Harry took a step forward and met ice with pure fire. "Don't you _dare_ presume to know what she means to me!" he responded in a deadly whisper.

Draco matched his step forward. "And what is that, _Minister_?" he said the title like it was an insult, "a trophy you haven't won?"

The tension was building in the room and Blaise was waiting for it to break. Ron just stood there, transfixed.

"It isn't like you would understand," Harry answered with chilled condescension. "People like _you_ never can understand _love._"

He had crossed a boundary from which there was no going back. Completely forgetting that he was supposed to be a dignified businessman, completely ignoring the fact that he was facing the Minister of Magic, completely forgetting that the head auror was present, Draco took Harry by the throat and slammed him up against the wall.

In clipped, strained words, he barely managed to speak through his anger. "People like_ me_ often know more about love than people like _you_ can comprehend. You don't love her. If you loved her you would sacrifice _anything_ to be with her. You would endure _any_ pain to remain by her side. You would sooner loose your life-long best friend than let her walk out of your _life_."

His face was so close to Harry's that it strained Harry's eyes to focus on him. "If you _loved_ her, you would _know_ her. Rather than accusing her of locking you out you would _find_ a way in. You would _know_ that it doesn't matter who you are or where you're from, who you live with or spend the rest of your time with. To _her_ all that matters is your _integrity_, your _character_. If she can respect that, if she can _trust_ that, she will accept you for _you_. Any _tension_ there may have been between you would have been your own creation."

Draco pressed in even harder, putting more pressure on the Minister in every way except the hand at his throat. If he couldn't breathe he couldn't hear. "She and I haven't been in the same room without yelling at each other but a handful of times since we met. Everyone who knew us knew we fought worse than _you_ and I, yet Blaise knows her better than anyone, Blaise, my best friend since _birth_. There was no _tension_ between them because he heard both sides vent at the end of the day. There was no _tension_ between them because he knew how _our_ fights made _me_ feel even though he never discussed it with her. There _was_ tension between him and _ me_ over it, but not between _them_. If you _loved_ her, you would _understand_ that and suffer through whatever it did to you and your auror friend here."

He couldn't help it, he tightened his grip on Harry's throat for just a second and watched him wince horribly before loosening it back to merely a threatening pressure. "You aren't in love with _Ginevra_. You are in love with an ideal you built up _years_ ago based on _tales_ you heard about your _mother_. You constructed the _picture_ of a _perfect _woman, something _no_ one could ever live up to. You are simply _fixated_ on her because she comes _closer_ than anyone else ever has. You _don't_ know her and never _will_ as long you keep trying to _force_ her into a damn box _no one_ belongs in. If you _loved_ her, you would _accept_ her for who she _is_, you would _love_ her for who she is."

Draco shoved off of Harry as though finally realizing how close to a piece of scum he really was. Without waiting for any kind of response from anyone, he turned and left the office.

Harry rubbed his throat tentatively and looked at Ron. "Are you going to let him get away with that?" he asked in disbelief.

Ron met his gaze and answered without hesitation. "I can forgive him the assault in light of what he said. It is something you needed to hear and I doubt you would have listened in any other position." With that, he too turned and left. Blaise went to catch up with his friend after lifting an imaginary hat to the Minister.

Neither Draco nor Blaise said anything about what had happened and simply left the building in silence. Once outside, Draco turned to Blaise and said lightly. "You know, we _can_ apparate directly into the school, right?"

Blaise looked a bit sheepish. In his anger he had subconsciously acted in consideration of wards long removed. "Yeah."


	8. Chapter 8

When Blaise and Draco reentered the Great Hall, Gin was sitting there waiting for them. She did not look happy. She could only assume where they had disappeared to and one look at their faces when they saw hers told her she was right. They may be her best friends, but she didn't like even _them_ interfering with her life.

She got up and walked out. They didn't try to stop her.

She stood on the cliffs overlooking the lake and wrapped her arms around herself. She really had missed this place, but she was beginning to wonder herself whether what they were attempting was possible. She was beginning to wonder whether her past would get in the way after all.

She heard footsteps slowly approaching. Was it possible? The stride wasn't long enough for Draco and Blaise never walked that hesitantly. She turned around slowly before throwing her arms around the startled man and burying her face in his chest.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her as well and held her like he was afraid she would disappear. "Ginny..." he began.

She shook her head against him. "You don't have to. It doesn't matter anymore. You're here; you came here. That's all that matters to me now." She was barely whispering and held him even closer.

He buried his face in her hair. "I need to, Ginny. I need to tell you I'm sorry, that I was a fool. My actions caused you so much pain for so long, pain you never should have born. I'm sorry." Tears made his voice rougher than usual.

She nodded. "The others?" she asked quietly.

He smiled. "They've just been waiting for me to get up the courage to come out here. They would have mobbed you the first day if I hadn't believed the first apology was my responsibility." His voice turned his explanation into another apology.

She tilted her head to look up at him. "I love you Ron. I always have. I have always loved and missed you all."

He hugged her so tight she had trouble breathing before releasing her. "So," he said in a more conversational tone, "Your friends paid me a visit today."

She rolled her eyes and looked out over the cliff again. "I know."

He could hear the anger in her voice. "It was a good thing, Ginny. They helped me find the courage to come out here. I don't know how long it would have taken if Zabini hadn't yelled at me like that."

Her gaze lowered. She didn't like being mad at her friends, but her life was her life and there were certain things that she just didn't like meddled with. She sighed. "Then I guess I'm glad he did. Just..." she turned around and looked Ron with questioning eyes, "tell me, did _Draco_..."

Ron scratched the back of his head. He had figured she wouldn't like that part of what had happened and now he was sure. "He sort of..."

She growled, "That's enough. You don't have to explain. He went off on Harry, didn't he?"

Ron nodded.

"It isn't like he has a right to," she turned back around angrily. "It isn't like he has a right to criticize the way anyone else treats me."

Ron stepped up beside her. "That's what I don't understand. The two of you seem as much at odds as always, even during the war. Even _we_ heard that the two of you had a reputation for the most volatile relationship, anything setting you off. I don't understand why he always meant, _means_, so much to you."

She closed her eyes and lifted her face into the wind. "Because I know him, and I know his heart. I wouldn't have made it through the war without him. I love him, and part of me cannot deny that he loves me, that he needed me as much as I needed him. That is why the yelling starts, why we cannot get along." She lowered her head and looked over at her brother. "When you and the others took off during your seventh year, I was left alone in Gryffindor Tower. Luna was kept at home; Neville was kept at home; everyone I knew seemed to have been kept at home. Dray was even more alone than I was. He was practically the only seventh year Slytherin to return. His mother had found him a way out of becoming a death eater, or rather, out of directly challenging his father on his seventeenth birthday by insisting that he finish his schooling.

"Without anyone to talk to and without the three of you to torment, he targeted me. It got to the point of stalking with him. He would follow me everywhere doing his best to make my life as miserable as his was. It wasn't hard, considering that I was alone anyway. Before too long, I decided that I would just accept it and give back as good as I got. It would either drive him away or even the score. We became rather proficient at communicating through insults and actually got to know each other. Sometimes we would admit to things in anger or frustration we never would have said under self-control, and sometimes we shared things we never would have told anyone else because somehow we knew the other would understand even if they didn't care.

"By Christmas it had become an odd sort of friendship. No one would have called us civil to each other, but we were the only ones allowed to insult or attack the other. He defended me; I defended him. It was strange, but it worked. Then, during a game of Quidditch early in the new year, one of the beaters on his team hit my broom instead of the bludger. It sent the handle up into my face before I fell off entirely. Dray sped down from where he was searching for the snitch and caught me just before I hit the ground. I hadn't been flying that high, I would have survived, but he saved me a great deal of pain. Anyway, after he looked at the cut above my eye left by the broom handle, we just kind of stood there, looking at each other.

"I guess it was at that moment that we realized we cared. We weren't just tolerating each other anymore, we actually cared. After that the fighting stopped. We no longer insulted each other but talked the way friends talk. We became close. He got to know me as no one else ever has and I got to know him in return. Unfortunately, that isn't really something he could handle.

"He didn't mind that I knew him, but it bothered him how much he liked that I did. He couldn't stand the thought of losing me and missing me, of actually feeling pain because of how much he cared for someone else. He became stiff and we started arguing again." She turned back over the cliff so her eyes could focus on the horizon. "I think he could have dealt with that, though, if it hadn't been for his insecurity."

"You see, the more he came to need me the less he wanted me and the more he wanted me the more determined he was not to need me. Everyone, even Blaise, seems to think that his arrogance and his need to be better than everyone else is born out of a belief that he is. Everyone is wrong. He cannot allow anyone to know something he does not because then he would have needed someone to tell him. He cannot endure anyone being able to do something better than him because that would mean wisdom requires he seek their help. He has to be able to survive, succeed, excel, and exist entirely on his own.

"It's easy enough to live with him, allowing him to believe that he does not need you but rather chooses to have you around, that he does not need your assistance even though it might make his life easier. Blaise has been doing that most of their lives, but I could not. I cannot let him live like that. He is the strongest, deepest, best man I know. I just wish he could see that being better than everyone is not a requisite of independence and independence is not a requisite of life." She stopped, still staring off into space. She had never outlined it like that, not even to herself.

"Have you ever," Ron asked his sister gently, "told him all of this as calmly as you have told me?"

She smiled ruefully. "That, Ron, would have ended everything. Even as they are things are not _over_, they never really began. To confront him with something he does not wish to see...that would have pushed him away entirely." She sighed and tore her eyes away from the distance, forcing them to refocus. "If you push Harry, confront him with a view of himself that he does not like and challenge him to change, whether in soft understanding tones or yelling at the top of your lungs, you're safe. He'll either listen to you and change, or he'll shut you out and forget you ever said anything ten minutes after you leave. If you push Dray, try to help him see where he can change, yelling is actually safer. He can convince himself that you were angry and reaching for anything, saying anything to hurt him, or he can convince himself that whatever you said was his own revelation and act on it. Speak calmly to him, show him a picture of himself he does not like or is afraid of when both of you are rational and he ceases to be so. He will lock you out and walk away. You will always be someone who knows his weakness, someone to be avoided, someone to be proven wrong at all costs. You will become his enemy. No, there is only one time when you can _speak_ to him, and that is when he asks a direct question seeking a confirmation of what he has finally realized."

Ron saw the sadness and the pain in his sister's eyes and it broke his heart. In a moment of insight not nearly as rare as it once would have been, he said, "I wouldn't be surprised if the memory seventeen years lived without you will permit him to remain blind any longer."

She smiled a pained smile and lowered her head a moment before turning toward the castle. "I should get back inside."

He nodded and followed her.


	9. Chapter 9

Once Ginny and Ron had reached the Entrance Hall, Ginny decided that she couldn't face the boys yet and headed up toward the Room of Requirement. When she was halfway up the stairs Ron called after her.

As she turned, he looked up at her and said, "I just thought you should know, Harry still fancies himself in love you."

She sighed deeply, "I figured as much, but I still hoped I was wrong." Her eyes were deeply sad as she turned back upstairs.

Ron stood in the Hall for a few moments trying to decide whether to leave or go into the Great Hall. Finally, he decided to go in and see the others while he was there. As he approached the door he could hear them talking.

"You just don't get it," Blaise was saying, "she _has_ to yell at you. It's the only option you give her. She can't stand by and watch you behave like an ass, and since you won't listen to reason reasonably she has to throw it in your face and hope some of it sticks. It isn't like she _enjoys_ it. Hell, how many times has she asked you why the two of you always end up yelling at each other? She hates it and would give anything to change the way things are."

Ron couldn't hear what Draco said in response but figured it must have been sarcastic to warrant the sound of frustration Blaise presently emitted.

"You bloody moron," this was the first time Ron had ever heard Blaise curse and somehow it sounded much darker coming for the man than it did from anyone else, "she's tried to give up on you. She's tried to turn her back on your memory and get on with her life a hundred times but she _can't_ and if you are too damn blind to understand why you _are_ a fool and deserve all the shit life throws at you." Ron began to wonder if it was merely do to his limited acquaintance with Blaise that he had never heard this language from him, but as he stepped into the room and saw the look on Draco's face he realized the man's best friend was no more used to it than himself. Somehow, as the words came from Blaise they retained their actual meaning rather than being reduced to generic expletives.

Draco growled. "If all I do is cause her pain like you say, how the hell can she be in love with me?"

Ron leaned up against the table opposite the two men and ignored the look on Draco's face that clearly expressed his disdain of the intrusion. "You cause her so much pain _because_ she's in love you."

Blaise clenched his jaw and glared at Ron. Surely he knew his sister well enough to know how she hated interference.

Draco was torn for a moment between asking for an explanation and telling Ron to fuck off. Finally curiosity won over indignation. "Expound," the one word was cold, hard, and slightly desperate.

Blaise looked sideways at his friend before looking back at Ron and asking, "Are you sure that would be wise?"

Ron smiled self-consciously and shrugged. "Not really, but if she's willing to spend her life yelling at an idiot who causes her more pain than I ever have because she loves him whether he ever gets it or not, I'm willing to commit what she considers the worst offense and run her wrath for her own good." Blaise rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders before crossing his arms and waiting.

Draco growled again, "Well?" he demanded.

"First of all," Ron said in the authoritative tone he had developed over years as head auror, "it isn't wise to antagonize someone about to do you a favor at the risk of his own neck. Secondly, you'd do well to remember that I'm speaking to you for _her_ sake you, not yours. She yells at you because there are things she is desperate for you to understand and if she speaks to you in any other way you will not only turn a deaf ear for the moment but you will never hear another word she says and all ground she has gained with you will be lost never to be regained. The things she is desperate for you to understand are numerous but the most important are these: she does not believe that you are an arrogant, pompous jack-ass who believes he is better than everyone else, she believes you are a lonely, insecure man who is desperate to believe that he has no need for anyone else because he is terrified of failing, or worse, being hurt; and that she believes underneath your fears and insecurities hides the strongest, most honourable, most _wonderful_ man she has ever come to know and that if you could truly understand that you would realize how foolish your insecurities are. Since she cannot attempt to show you how ridiculous your low self-esteem is without providing examples and all you would hear would be you own skewed perceptions, she is forced to restrict herself to attempts at treating the symptoms rather than cause. That takes the form of yelling at you for acting like a jack-ass." With that, Ron stood up and left. He didn't feel like waiting for the reaction. At the door he turned back. "I may have failed to be the brother she deserves for most of her life, but I swear you this, push her too far, hurt her so bad that she _does _give up on you, and no brother in the history of man will have taken more pleasure in avenging his sister."

* * *

a/n now that i have a baby i cannot update anywhere near as regularly, but i still plan on finishing the story 


	10. Chapter 10

Draco just stared after Ron.

Blaise turned to Luna who was humming as she knitted, apparently unaware of her surroundings. "Did he say anything I haven't been saying for the last thirty minutes?"

Luna looked up thoughtfully, "No, but I suppose if a blind, deaf, mute explained to you what an orchestra looked like as they played the most beautiful music he had ever heard you would pay a little more attention then when the conductor or composer did the same."

Blaise sighed. His wife was right, of course. She usually was. Turning back to Draco, he asked, "Well, do you believe him anymore than you believe me?"

Draco turned to stare down at his hands. After a few moments of silence, he just got up and walked out.

Blaise groaned loudly and threw himself flat on his back on the table.

Luna put her knitting away and walked over to him. Taking his hand in hers and gently pulling him back into a sitting position, she said, "Come on, we better go home." She wrapped him in her arms and hugged him until he began to get to his feet. He sighed and apparated home. She followed.

The next day, Ginny was up before dawn and working in the Great Hall. Most of it had been repaired fairly quickly and all that was left was the ceiling. She now lay on her back and stared up at the expanse above her. She began by waving her wand in intricate patterns and observing the result. To most, it would appear that she wasn't really doing anything at all, but there were traces and trails of magic that were relating very important information to her. The longer she lay there, the more intricate the patterns she wove and she began to mumble under her breath.

Mid-morning, Blaise and Luna arrived. They stepped in to say hello, but left without a word. She was so absorbed in what she was doing that she hadn't noticed their arrival and she looked more at peace than she had since she arrived. Instead, they moved to word in the anterooms.

A few hours after them, Draco entered the hall and froze when he saw her. She was stretched out flat on her back on the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables she had drawn together in the center of the room. Her red hair was spread out around her head and her silhouette was the most beautiful thing he had seen since she had disappeared seventeen years before.

Unable to find words to say, he turned around and walked out, opting instead to work on rebuilding the front staircases.

After he had stepped out of the room, Ginny dropped her wand. Her eyes closed, but tears still trickled out and down her eyelashes. She now knew it would be some time before the ceiling could be re-enchanted.

After a few moments, she got up and made her way out into the entryway. Without a word to Draco, she went into her office and recorded what she had learned in a book not unlike the one Draco had lent her.

Just as she finished, an owl flew in the window and dropped a letter on her desk. Picking it up, she read

Ginny,

I'm sorry about yesterday. I had no intention of threatening you. I'm sorry if that is what you heard. Please, allow me to make it up you. We need to discuss relations between the school and the ministry anyway, so allow me to take you to _Nicolai's_; I recall that it was once your favorite restaurant in town. It is strictly business, I just see no reason why we cannot enjoy ourselves as it is conducted.

Harry.

Sighing, she knew there was no way out of it. She scribbled an acceptance and gave it to the owl that was waiting patiently for a reply.

Knowing that she had absolutely nothing appropriate to wear and not trusting the Room of Requirement to make her decision for her, she went to find Luna.

"Hey, Luna? I need to step out for a while. You want to come with me?"

Blaise hung his head, but wisely said nothing. He knew something was wrong, but he also knew he had been pushing the boundaries of even _his_ friendship with her.

Luna smiled, put her wand behind her ear, and said, "Sure!"

Once they were out of the castle and on Diagon Alley, Ginny told her what they were shopping for.

Luna got a thoughtful look on her face. "Ginny, you know it won't end well."

Ginny sighed. "I know, but at this point, I don't really have much of choice. Nothing I do or say can have a positive effect on either of them and I honestly believe that playing nicely with Harry as long as I can is what's best for the school at the moment."

Luna nodded and said, "Well, green always did look the best on you, what do you think of this one?"

After four hours of shopping, they finally found a dress in a suitable shade and fit.

Once she was ready, Ginny stared at her reflection in the mirror. She thought she looked rather beautiful, but she really did wish it was Draco she was meeting instead of Harry. As it was, she was dreading the evening. She had once fancied herself in love with Harry, but she had realized she was only in love with the idea of him. Once she saw him as a person, she gradually found herself falling for him all over, but with the reality instead of the illusion. When he ended their relationship at the end of his six year, she tried to understand, and was succeeding in the most part. Unfortunately, some of the comments he made at her brother's wedding that summer had led her to the realization that he was no more in love with _her_ than she had been with him when she was eleven. He had this vision of her, the _her_ he wanted, not the _her_ she was.

Things had gotten worse when he returned in the middle of her plea for Snape. It wasn't something she liked to recall. She had Lupin convinced and was making ground with Shacklebolt. She knew she would have succeeded of Ron and Harry had walked in, heard her statement "Right now, Snape is our only option," and declared ridiculously, "Not anymore!"

After that, she was faced with illogical arguments and stubborn deafness as she tried to prove the validity of Snape's claims. It had ended badly. Harry had ended the meeting, declaring that it was too late and everyone should rest before it continued. Ron had called a meeting of the whole family, except her. Harry had supposedly been on her side, but his answer was to place her under house arrest until she saw reason. Fortunately for everyone, imprisoning his sister was something Ron could not do. No, he simply trusted that her bond with her family would win her over. He had been wrong, of course, but only because she had been right and knew it all too well. If there had been any doubt in her mind at all she would have stayed. Harry seemed more determined to believe her brainwashed, temporarily insane because of the stress of war, or somehow under a spell than independent.

She sighed and made her way out of her apartment. Harry loved her as well as he knew and understood her. This evening was going to be a disaster.


	11. Chapter 11

When she arrived at the restaurant, she informed the Mater de that she was there to meet the minister. He smiled in that way she never could trust before turning toward the back of the dining room. She followed silently, hands holding her clutch so tightly that her knuckles were white.

When Harry saw her, he stood automatically. He barely registered the movement when he sat down after she was seated. She was stunning. It was a moment before he realized she was wearing green. He clenched his jaw.

"Did you have to do that?" he asked irritably.

"Do what?" Ginny asked defensively. This was not how she imagined the evening would start. She had hoped the insults would wait at least until the first course arrived.

"Wear green. Why do you have to make him present even when he isn't here?" Harry stared at his menu too hard to actually be reading it.

She rolled her eyes. "I wore green because I happen to like it and because Luna thinks a I look good in it. Do _you_ have to do that?" she asked, mocking his tone.

He sighed. "Do _what?_"

"Act like a child," she answered innocently. "This is a business dinner, unless I read the invitation incorrectly. If I did, I had better be leaving now, before the misunderstanding goes further…" she let her words trail off and moved as if to stand up.

He laid the menu down. "No, this is business dinner, and I'm sorry about my comment on the dress. You look fantastic."

"Thank you," she relaxed and picked up her menu.

After they had ordered, they sat there looking around the restaurant in silence for a few moments.

Finally, Ginny sighed. "Look, this is ridiculous. What is it you needed to discuss?"

Clearly disappointed that the evening took a serious turn so soon, Harry cleared his throat. "There is considerable weight being placed on me to stop this experiment with the school from going any further and I am interested in keeping you from getting hurt. It's changed a lot around here since you left. I understand what you're trying to do, but the people just aren't ready for it. Trust me, I only want what's best for you and what's best for them. Why don't you come work for your brother with the aurors for a while. Maybe in a few years you can try again, but in the right order."

Ginny set her water down very carefully, trying to maintain her composure. Before she could speak, the waiter arrived with their food and she decided she was grateful for his timing, the last thing she wanted to do was to cause a scene in public with the minister who fancied himself in love with her. Who knew what he would say to the reporters?

Once the waiter had stepped away, she took a measured breath. "First of all, this is not an experiment. We have a plan and we are going forward with it. There is nothing the ministry can do to stop us. Secondly, I understand that things have changed, but I'm not a fool. I believe that the people _are_ ready for this. I believe that they _need_ it. Third, I have no interest in being an auror, now or ever. It simply isn't what I want to do. Fourth, just what, _exactly_, would you consider the 'right order' or rebuilding the school?" She couldn't keep the offended tone out of her voice when she asked her question.

Harry had been about to take a bite and put his fork down. "You should have come to me first. You should have publicly sought ministry approval. You should have made all of you intentions known in a public forum and allowed input from others. There should have been a campaign for support before you ever set foot on the campus. These things have to be done slowly, cautiously, openly, and subtly."

She sighed and took a bite. By the time she had swallowed, she had regained enough control to respond. "Not all of life is politics and not all of politics is undercurrent. You do your job remarkably well, I will be the first to admit that. The problem is that you don't understand the subtlety we are employing. Sometimes, being straightforward and blunt is more manipulative than any hint could ever be. If we waited for permission, if we waited for approval from the public, we would be admitting that we have doubts, that we _need_ support. We do not. If we showed any doubts we would be showing weakness. The school cannot stand on weakness. If we believe in what we are doing so strongly that we are willing to make it our lives, that we are willing to go forward so brashly, so sure of ourselves, than others will believe in us as well. That is what the people need now, belief, belief in themselves, belief in others, belief in _life_. By being strong and confident we free them to be the same. Wait, Harry, you'll see. It may be rocky, but not so bad as you think unless you make it so. If you support us now you will be demonstrating pride in your people. You will in no way be playing the subordinate. We will not be dictating to the ministry, we will be working under its rule. Read the laws. Hell, you can still come out on top if you want. You can spin this so the ministry looks like the heros. I'll help. Just tell everyone that the reason you didn't sell or use the property was because you were waiting for this day. You knew that when the time was right the school would be rebuilt and you were simply ensuring that future without overstepping your bounds, allowing the people to heal, allowing the people a source of pride in themselves, governing _your_selves to remain within the boundaries of your authority. The people will love that."

Harry swallowed slowly. "You really don't get it. The school cannot be rebuilt. There are other factors that must be considered. Where is your faculty going to come from? You cannot simply draw out the top members of each field, the rest of the society will suffer their loss. Where will funding come from? The Malfoy and Zabini accounts will only take you so far. How will you handle the logistics of enrollment? These are only some of the minor concerns. There are a lot of powerful figures in politics who have been counting on using the educational system to their advantage. If you rearrange everything, reset it all back to Hogwart's, you will make strong enemies. I simply cannot allow you to so drastically change the delicate political climate of postwar Britain."

Ginny closed her eyes. Pulling her napkin out of her lap and placing it on the table, she said as politely as she could. "Our faculty will come from wherever we find willing teachers. Our funding is not your concern, neither are our logistics. As for enemies, we will meet them when they challenge us. Please do not align yourself to be one of them. We are going ahead as planned. Nothing you or the ministry can say will stop us. I appreciate your concern, but I don't believe there is anything more to be said on the matter." She began to rise.

Harry was standing before she was. "Please, understand, Ginny. This _is_ just business. If I could make it any other way, I would. I wanted to have this dinner as friends, hoping to avoid some unpleasant encounters that must ensue of you continue as you apparently insist on doing." He smiled and extended a hand to help her up. "Can we agree not to let this hamper out personal relationship?"

She took his hand and stood graciously. Whatever her answer would have been, it was never heard. As soon as she was standing, before he had released her hand, what seemed like a thousand flash bulbs went off as countless reporters took pictures of them. He sheepishly brought his free hand to the back of his neck, but did not release his hold with the other.

"What brings you two out tonight?" one reporter shouted.

Before she could answer, Harry stepped in front of her. "It's just a dinner between friends. Please, allow us some measure of privacy!"

Ginny's blood began to rise as she heard his words and the slight tinge of anger in them that she knew was fake. She knew Harry. She knew he wasn't surprised to see them. She knew his words were carefully chosen to make sound like he was trying to deny without denying that it was a date. She knew he was doing this only to upset Draco. She knew he knew it wouldn't help him any with her. It was the only reason he would risk it.

Grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around to face her, she bit out through clenched teeth. "You have effectively destroyed any _personal relationship_ you hoped to protect." Not trusting herself to say anything to the reporters, she pushed past them as quickly as possible and apparated as soon as she was on the street.


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning Draco stormed into the castle and barged into Ginny's office without knocking.

Throwing the paper down on her desk, he yelled at her, "What the hell is this?!"

She looked at it. "A paper."

"It's you and Potter!"

She stood up and glared at him. "You know it was nothing!"

"_You_ knew he would do something like this and you went anyway!"

She started yelling as well. "I had no bloody choice!"

"You could have said no!"

"Like hell! You know he wouldn't have left me alone! You know he would have done something else! You know it wouldn't have mattered one iota if I had refused!"

"Then you damn well should have said something! Why did you let them print this? Why didn't you tell them it was business?!"

"Because it was none of theirs! What the fuck does it matter anyway? It isn't like there's someone to get jealous over it!" With that, she stormed out of the room.

Blaise was standing in the entrance hall. "That was risking, wasn't it?"

"What?" she demanded a bit harshly.

"Telling him there isn't anyone to get jealous?"

She sneered. "There isn't, Blaise. I don't care what the media says about me. I never have. As a result they've rarely said anything. I won't answer personal questions and I won't make responses to personal assumptions. If Harry and Draco want to have a PR war over who I'm dating then they are welcome to it, but if Draco wants me to break a silence he has long been aware I maintain he damn well better give me a reason to. Denial means nothing without alternative confirmation of which I have none to give. As it stands he has no bloody right to care if I actually _did_ date Harry!" She looked at Blaise as though daring him contradict her.

Blaise did not.

She stormed off onto the grounds.

Once she was outside, Blaise looked over and saw Draco standing in the open door to her office. It was hard to read his face.

Blaise sighed. "Well, what do you make of that?"

"I would have no right to care if she dated the greatest bloody git in all off England?"

"Just England, eh?"

"Sod off!"

"No, as it stands, you would not."

"So what? Was that her way of telling me to ask her out? She had to know I would hear all of that."

"Mate, take it how you will," he turned off down a hallway. Just before he turned a corner, he called back, "but that's what I heard."

Draco turned to face the front lawn where Ginny had disappeared. "Why the hell would she want me to ask her out? We almost kill each other every time we speak now!"

"If she didn't love you wouldn't bother fighting with you and," Luna said as she entered the room, "who doesn't want to date the man she loves?"

Draco walked off to think. He really wasn't sure what he should do, or even what he wanted to do. He thought over all the time he had spent with Ginny. The more he thought about it he began to realize that she had never started a fight. She had always just reacted to his antagonism. Why the hell _would_ she put up with him? The thing was, when he thought about it like this he could admit he acted like an ass most of the time and that everything she had told Ron was true, but for some reason it didn't change the way he reacted to things.

As he was walking, he saw someone approaching. When it took longer for the man to reach him than he expected, he looked closer and realized it was Hagrid. Hagrid had been one of the only ones to accept him, one of the first to stand beside him when he was recruiting. He knew it was entirely due to Ginny's trust in him, but anyone willing to trust her that completely was a good man in his estimation.

He strode toward Hagrid and greeted the half-giant with a hearty handshake. "Welcome home, Hagrid. Ginny's already prepared your hut."

Hagrid smiled. "Firenze told me she 'ad. Merlin, it's good to be back. I was beginnin' ta wonder if this place'd ever reopen."

"It will now," Draco said confidently. "Hopefully next September first. Think you can get the grounds back in shape by then?"

Hagrid looked around at all the wild growth. "If'en you can get the castle up by then, the grounds'll be ready."

Draco smiled. "I knew we could count on you. Blaise and Luna are inside. Ginny's out on the grounds somewhere. I'll find her and tell her you're hear if you want to go in and see the others."

Hagrid looked at Draco for a moment before nodding and heading in.

Draco turned and started off toward the lake. He knew where he would find Ginny, and sure enough, she was right where he expected, standing on the edge of the lake where the cliffs began to rise away from it.

"Hagrid's here," he said as he approached.

She turned. "Excellent." She started to walk toward the castle.

"Ginny…" he called after her.

She turned to face him. "No, Draco. It's all right. You don't have to say anything. I feel like a fool. I don't expect anything. I never have. And I certainly don't want to push anything. As for the reporters, well, I really don't want them involved with my personal life, you know that, and if they are determined to find something to print about it letting them believe what they want to is my own sick revenge. I know I'm a public figure, and if someone wants to do a story on me I'll answer questions I believe they have a right to know. I'll tell them what I believe, my hopes and dreams, my plans, anything about me, really, but my relationships with others are not their business. I put myself in the spot light and I'll live with that, but I will not drag my family and friends with me. I will do my best to protect them. If I deny a relationship with Harry they will begin to theorize about who I might be with. Harry chose that publicity, no one else did. Furthermore, I will not demonstrate any sort of respect for intrusive journalism by deigning it with a response. If the press is doing a story on the school, the interview will remain focused on the school. If they want a story on me they can ask for it. If they want to stalk me and jump out of the shadows they are not true journalists and do not deserve the truth. If the public is determined to believe what they want and think they know me because they read the tabloids, then they deserve the deception. The only people I care about know the truth. That's all that matters to me." When she finished speaking, she turned and continued to the castle.

Draco thought about what she said. He understood her view of the press and generally agreed. What he focused on, though, was her statement that she had never expected anything. That disturbed him. From what the others had said, from what she had said, she was in love with him and had not and would not pursue a relationship with anyone else, but never expected to have a relationship with him. That meant that she was willing, prepared, and expecting to live the rest of her life in love but alone. Alone because _he_ needed her where she was, close enough but never closer. Alone because _he_ was a coward.

He ran after her.

He caught up to her just as she was making her way up to the main doors. Spinning her around to face him, he didn't even give her a chance to react before bending down and drawing her into a kiss. As soon as she recovered from the shock and relaxed, he deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.

She didn't care what had happened to bring him here; she was just happy. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him like she never wanted to let go. When he released her from the kiss, she laid her head against his shoulder, remaining silent to let him say whatever he wanted to say.

Speaking into her hair, he said, "Ginny, I'm sorry. You _were_ a fool to wait for me, but I'm glad you did. I was a bigger fool to make you, to let you. I'm sorry."

She just held him tighter.


End file.
